Picture Of Us
by CA-Walker
Summary: One-shot inspired by S5 footage. Arthur and Joan enjoy their first night out without little Mackenzie Campbell.


**Author's Note: Sooooo Season 5 is starting tonight so I just thought I'd write this one-shot about my favourite spy couple just for that reasons, based on footage from the new season that I've seen. Also, would like to shamelessly promote the fact that I'll be writing post-episode one-shots for each episode this season as I cannot get enough of this couple. The title comes from the name of a song by a fantastic band called Raintown. As always I do not own Covert Affairs and could only wish I do, so full credit goes to the wonderful cast and crew whom I absolutely adore, who do. Also, thank YOU for reading.**

**#**

The rain pouring down outside was nearly hypnotic. It was the complete opposite of what it had been like mere hours ago and, thanks to the more friendly hours that her new position within the agency offered, she'd been able to take advantage of the then gorgeous weather by taking Mac down to the park whilst his father worked, also in a new job that had better hours what with the private sector was a little bit more forgiving than high profile positions within the CIA.

"Little help?"

Turning from the rain-streaked window, she had half expected to be greeted with Arthur with a squirming infant in arms. Instead she was still greeted with Arthur, except his hands were full of either ends of his untied bow tie. She shook her head, smiling. "Really?"

He nodded like a child himself. "_Really_. You know I'm no good with these things. The last time I probably wore one was at our wedding. No," he paused and took a second or two. "It was at our wedding, definitely."

"And?"

"And?" He stumbled over the word. "You want me to add that it was the best day of my life? Because it sure as hell was. That, I don't even need to think about. - it was."

"And," she said, beaming, as she found herself doing so often these days. She crossed the floor of their bedroom and took either end of the black material. "Did you do it yourself then?"

Arthur grinned. "What do you think?"

"I think-. I _know _that there was absolutely no way in hell that you did. I also think that you were, and are too typically male to have asked your best man to help you out, and I was actually told, by your best man, that you got my mother to tie it for you before I walked down the aisle. Apparently five minutes before hand."

"Actually more like three."

Joan sighed. "Why does that not surprise me? You're gonna have to learn though...for Mac's sake. That's something daddy needs to teach him; not mommy." _Mommy. _There wouldn't be a day on which that word wouldn't be sweet. It didn't even need to fully sink in - which, even four months on, it still hadn't for her - for it to bring a smile to her face. It was perfect enough when she or Arthur said it; the day her child said it for the first time would be indescribable.

"I know, I know...I'll learn for him, I promise."

"For him?" She arched a brow as she straightened up the now tied, bow tie.

"And for his mother too. His mother who is looking absolutely stunning tonight. It is no coincidence that the second I stepped into this room, it became that little bit harder to breathe," his hands skimmed her waist and rested on her hips as his eyes wandered, not sure where to lie until they finally decided, fixing on hers. "You look gorgeous and I am so glad that you've decided to come."

"Why? So you have someone to dance with?"

"So I get to make all the other guys jealous and see the looks on their faces when they realize that you're with me...that you're my wife." He bit down on his lip and pulled her even closer, his unbuttoned suit jacket brushing against her stomach. "But now that you mention that...kinda yeah. Brown nosing senators is bad enough; it's even worse when half of them are cougars on the prowl."

"Ah...so you really just wanted me to protect you, that's it?" She asked, her nimble fingers making light and quick work of the buttons on this jacket.

"Damn...you see right through me, don't you?" He grinned. "And I see right through you too...you're nervous about tonight, aren't you?"

"I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't slightly apprehensive, yes."

"It's not too late to change your mind, you know. If you don't want to go, I won't. Tonight wasn't mandatory, it was simply encouraged. Truth be told, I probably wouldn't have gone tonight if you didn't. And I'm glad that you did...it's our first proper date since Mac was born."

"First proper date since Mac was conceived." That night at the opera had been a whole year ago before fake affairs, incarceration and house arrest had all reared their ugly heads in their lives. Neither of them truly enjoyed the opera but it had been a good excuse to dress up and enjoy a complimentary glass of champagne. It was similar to tonight - neither of them was really much for black tie events but again it offered free, and unbelievably expensive bottles of champagne bought and paid for by the taxpayers. It was too good an excuse to turn down. It was also their first night out without their son.

Arthur was right; he knew that that was weighing heavily on her mind. "You sure you wanna go?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Yeah, of course I do."

"Good but are you planning to tell your face that soon because I'm not sure that's got the memo," he smiled before he laughed. "I'm gonna miss the little guy too, you're not alone."

"Can't we...I don't know? Smuggle him in?"

"You know I do have a bigger shirt somewhere, I could see if I could fit the baby carrier under there. Have Mac's head tucked under my chin...put my bow-tie around my head - nobody would notice."

The mere thought made her smile; she could picture it and the picture that appeared in her head was perfect and adorable. "The cougars would. And let me tell you that seeing any man with a child is irresistible - let alone you."

Arthur shuddered just as the doorbell rang. "I sincerely hope that's the babysitter because there is no way in hell that we're taking Mac and making me cougar bait. You want me to get it? And you can get Mac?"

All but ready to leave anyway, she nodded. "Sure."

"Great," he replied, smoothing out the creases on his suit jacket before heading towards the bedroom door. "Make sure you tell the little guy that daddy will give him his nose back when he cuddles him downstairs. Yes, I forgot to give him back his nose, I'm sorry," he chuckled and his laughter was infectious.

"I will do, don't worry...wait, Arthur?" Her call stopped him the second he had his foot out of the door and he turned, spinning on the heels of his freshly polished shoes.

"Yeah?" The little creases around the corners of his eyes deepened as he smiled at her.

"You're an excellent father."

Like those creases, his smile deepened. "Yeah, well his mother set high standards that I had to match. I...I better go get that. Else we will have to sneak the little guy in."

# # #

A year ago, he never would have imagined becoming a father again - although, a year ago he would have struggled to even call himself a father to his fallen first born in the first place, for Arthur up until recently - and with Joan's help - would never have considered himself to be a father to Teo. Now, over twelve months on from their last real date night, he couldn't imagine anything but. Mackenzie, and the woman he had to thank for their little angel, were his world and Teo was a star that shone brightly above it, always there and never forgotten.

They'd only be out for a few hours and Mac was only four months old, and, thus would never remember tonight, but they had both found it tough to say goodbye to their son. The boy had clung to his mother, nearly falling asleep against her shoulder before she passed him over to him. Returning his nose, as promised, didn't pacify him and he must have sensed the disruption to the normal routine, holding onto Arthur too as if for dear life and crying when he was handed over to the sitter. Neither of them wanted to watch the heartbreaking, natural sight in front of their eyes and left, their cab already waiting for them.

"I miss him, Arthur," It had only been thirty minutes since they had arrived at the Washington Gala and Joan had been the one to say it first. Finally breaking away the hoardes of politicans and senators, who all seemed to know almost everything about them, congratulating them on both their new born and their new jobs, Joan had located a quiet spot. A lone table with a lone chair, they had to make adapt to the conditions, yet neither Arthur nor Joan seemed to mind about Arthur's lap being used as an additional seat. "And my feet are killing me. My first night out in ages and I chose to wear these damn things?"

Arthur grinned. "I was about to say that I relate but whilst I do miss our boy, I was, fortunately, not stupid enough to wear six inch heels. Not tonight anyway."

Accidentally, that would be what she would claim it'd be, her elbow bumped into his ribs as reached to free her feet from her hell. "They're only four...I didn't want to be taller than you."

"I see, I see..."

"Because male pride and all that, you know?"

"Excuse me? Baby, my pride went out the window the second I became your official purse holder for the night."

She patted his chest. "And a damn good official purse holder too."

"That sounds like buttering up," Arthur mumbled, resting his head on top of his wife's shoulder. "And I'm guessing it may have something to do with those shoes you'll be carrying for the rest of the night."

"Those shoes that _you'll_ be carrying."

"Yeah, I know...can't forgive a guy for wanting to have a little hope, eh?" The smell of her sweet perfume danced up his nostrils and his arms that he had around her waist held her a little tighter. "You know," he said, pausing to plant kisses up her collarbone. "We could just sit here for a few hours. I'm. More. Than. Happy. To." He punctuated his words with more kisses and he could see the effect it was having on her, goose-pimples prickling her skin. "Especially. With. You."

"I'd love to but...cougar on the prowl."

He instantly looked up, spotting one of the many officials he had been introduced to about an hour ago, coming his way. He had about ten seconds, if that, left with his wife. "Shit."

"You can't refuse a dance, Arthur."

_Five seconds_. "You offering? Because I'll take you out on the dancefloor right now."

"I would but my feet are killing me."

"You can't refuse a dance, Joan."

"I'm not refusing just...save me a dance, aright?"

"I was planning to, don't worry," he smiled, not having to attempt a brave face as he knew what he had to look forward to after no doubt being passed from one overly keen partner to the next on the dance floor.

"Mr Campbell..." The woman, whom he faintly recalled being called Beverley, said after finally tottering over to him. "May I have this dance?"

He did his best to swallow the sigh that had been rising for sometime, nodding as he got to his feet, his wife still in arms before he placed her back down on the chair. "If I'm not back soon, get my cell traced and remember that I love you," he whispered into her ear before turning to his first of many dance partners for the night. "Of course."

# # #

The perks of having a handsome husband was that everyone seemed to want a piece of him and he was more than happy to oblige. That was everyone except the person who wanted him the most - her.

The bubbles in his champagne glass had all but gone and it had felt like ages since she had been enjoying Arthur's company. Felt like it had been ages she had been declining offers from older gentlemen, claiming that although she would love to, her feet wouldn't let her. In reality, she simply really did not want to dance with anyone except her husband. It was their night and it was his function that she was his date for so she accepted the fact that he had to at mingle with the guests and she didn't mind, more than happy to sit on her phone and flick through her photos, struggling in vain to pick a picture to replace what had been her lock screen since Christmas day - a sneaky photo she had taken of the two guys in her life asleep, Mac sprawled out on Arthur's chest as he lay on the sofa. It wasn't as if she didn't have that many photos to chose from; it was quite the opposite and that was what was so difficult.

"Ahem."

The gentle cough made her click her phone locked, as she did each and every time she received an offer, to help make her denial politer. "I'm-." Looking up to see the face that offered out a hand, words stopped.

"I'd like that dance now," Arthur smiled. "If, you know, your feet aren't killing you any more," he added a wink.

She chuckled, wasting no time in accepting his hand. "Just for you, they seem to have made a remarkable recovery."

"Good, good because I sure as hell wasn't going to be taking no for an answer and," he wrapped an arm around her waist. "I am not letting you go...you know how hard it is to try and pretend to be interested in dancing with someone other than the person you love? I'm not that much of a dancer in the first place..."

"You're not that-." She paused, did a double take, her eyes narrowing as she heard the opening bars of the song that he was already swaying her along to. "Wait...this is our wedding song..."

"Yep."

There was a twinkle in his eye and it did not come from the glittering glitter ball that hanged over them. "You did this, didn't you?"

"If by this you mean, run over to that DJ, request this song, and run over to you before I got snared again, then you bet your ass that I did."

Warmth as well as his cologne radiated from him. "This is why I love you...you risk your life for me."

"Only because my life _is _you. And I know, I've not been the best husband...there's been so many things that I would have liked to have done differently...but I know that I can'-."

"Ssssh..."

He looked confused; he looked like he wanted to go on. "Joan..."

"No...things happen for a reason, don't they? Well I sure like to believe that they do and right now they've led me to this night where I'm dancing with my husband, who looks so unbelievably handsome. We also have a son who is so unbelievably perfect like his daddy that I can't stop thinking about the boy. I don't care how we got here but I've never been happier."

Arthur grinned from ear to ear. "Me neither."

"But if I'm being honest? This whole party thing kinda sucks," she said, resting her head against his shoulder, letting him lead.

"I thought it was just me," he muttered in return.

"You're bored too?"

"Out of my mind. You wanna head home early?"

"No."

"No?"

"Nope. But I do wanna get out of here...there's a park nearby. Parks at night with the person you love? That's romantic as hell."

"But it's raining. Or was anyway." Arthur sounded like such a father these days - a little rain had never bothered him before.

"You can give me your jacket."

"I can, can I?"

She nodded. "You _will _give me your jacket." And just as she said it, she also noticed the parent that she had now become in her voice. It had become perfectly natural and she was never going to fight it - she actually loved it. "I know I miss Mac like crazy but still...how often do and will we get this amount of time to ourselves?"

"You really don't wanna know the answer to that one honey."

"Exactly," she replied. "So how about we sneak off after our song's over?"

"I like your thinking."

# # #

Sneaking off was the best decision they could ever have made. Even the rain which, although not as heavy as it had been, was still falling, couldn't wipe the smile of their faces as they walked hand in hand through the park, the lampposts and the moonlight lighting their way. The occasional person that they passed would have come to the conclusion that they were drunk. Even though they had only had a glass of champagne each, they'd be right - they were drunk, just on each other, not alcohol.

They got home the back of twelve, apologised and overpaid the babysitter for running a little later than they had originally planned before flopping down on the sofa. The second they did, the baby monitor crackled and they heard their son's cries, almost as if he sensed his parents were back home.

"I'll get it," Arthur said, already jumping to his feet.

"Don't be silly. We both will...help me up, will you?"

He smiled, taking hold of both hands and doing what he was told. "You want me to help you walk next?"

_Well, now that he said it..._

"Fine," he sighed, crouching down. "Piggyback's your lot."

A piggyback all the way up the stairs to the nursery was more than enough. Mac settled the second he was in his father's arms but it soon became apparent that their son had missed them just as much as they had missed him, crying the second they left the room. To save themselves from a potentially long night, they got ready for bed before picking Mac out of his crib and bringing him through to their room for the night. They checked, and doubled checked that he'd be fine sleeping alongside them before calling it a night, little Mackenzie safe between them for the night.

Out of habit, Joan woke around five - one of Mac's preferred waking hours - but found that he was still sleeping comfortably. Tired, her body hated the fact that she rolled over to the night-stand to reach for her phone but her eyes, and her mind and her heart, knew that if she didn't capture how Arthur and Mac were lying side by side, in the exact same position, with the same look of contentment on their faces, truly embodying the like father like son adage, she regret it for the rest of her life.

Plus, she wouldn't have a new lock screen on her phone.


End file.
